Counting Blessings and Scars
by Daydreaming Heart
Summary: (Oneshot, post-game. Sue-centric. Blood, violence, and alcohol warning. References to multiple pairings.) "The war is over, but the woe is still here. But I keep silent and do not complain."


The war was over, but the woe is still here.

But I keep silent and do not complain.

It is hard work, putting the remains of our camp back together. Everyone who is able to lend a hand properly must and will.

The sound Granna teasing the others that even she, in her old age and with a bad arm, could put up a ger better and quicker than that is gone.

It had been since the traitor sister clan silenced her.

In the moments where we have breath, I hear Grandpa talking to Shin…about me…

I know that special lilt in his voice, the same one he has when he's up to something.

I don't know what it is, though from conversations I've heard earlier during the war, I have a sort of idea.

But I keep silent and do not complain.

What's left of us finally manage to put our encampment back together. Everyone is tired and grumbling.

The sound of Dudran boasting to his newlywed wife about how he had done most of the work and her just laughing at his bravado is gone.

It had been since a Bernese axe and a Djute knife silenced them.

I enter my home…it used to be _ours,_ but I'm all that's left.

What the men of Bern didn't raze, they stole.

We used to have a little mirror, a truly beautiful one.

Golden flowers and branches surrounding the small glass lake, a carefully painted back with dancing lions and many-colored birds riding the breeze.

It was a gift that Great Grandpa gave to Mother shortly before he passed. So she could remember her parents through her face and so her children could see how beautiful they were.

We were more impressed by the craftsmanship instead of the reflections, though we occasionally used it for it's actual purpose.

As a child, I would look at it, then one of my parents, then exclaim how I actually looked just like both of them.

I had not been able to find a trace of it since the attack. I would never see the eyes Mother gave me, nor the cheekbones Father gave me, again.

I was grateful that, at least, that Mori survived.

That is, that was the name I gave to this little horse made of rags and stuffed with grass.

I had less than even a few friends as a child, I was too scared to make any.

Mori, that horse doll my father made for me during the months before I was born, was the closest thing I had to one before I discovered that the flowers and the wind and the brook were friendly enough.

He was more torn than the last time I saw him, quite empty as some of his stuffing fell out, the cloth smudged with soot, the mink-pelt mane patchy…he was in very bad shape.

The memories of a happier, simpler time come back as I pet what's left of his mane, they are warm and welcome, but then the recent past and the present make them cold…sad…almost unbearable.

But I keep silent and do not complain.

The time of leisure is brief, and I go back outside to enjoy what remains of the little break before returning to whatever needs work next.

The sound of Tagta fussing over her son as she tries to put him down for a nap is gone.

It had been since a Djute arrow and a Bern sword silenced them.

The sky begins to grow a little gold, the air still smells of smoke, a bit of blood, but recent rains have softened the scent a little.

I look around, waiting and hoping for the wind to blow so I may speak to it some, until I see a familiar face.

Grandpa managed to get a few loners to join our tribe.

This Bulgar boy, Rutger, is one of them.

We talked a little during our time in the army, though not much.

He seldom smiles, for if it's not his lost family, it's how he could not be able to be with his lover, a girl of noble blood.

Often, he contemplates just severing ties from every country, every clan, and living alone, wandering the earth.

An overwhelming rage burns in his eyes, something I made the mistake of reprimanding him for once, a mistake that may have cost us a possible healthy friendship.

We quarreled some, even, but I do not believe that we ever felt hatred for one another.

He sits by himself by the side of the hill, I sit beside him.

"…You." He greets.

I say nothing, just smile soberly.

"What?" He says curtly.

My smile is quick to fade, it was something that happened frequently since Bern invaded. "…I'm sorry."

He looks away from me. "…Sorry, too."

We do not speak for the rest of the conversation, the rest is just us listening to the air around us to understand what we want to say.

He wanted to avenge his family, his clan, I wanted to avenge mine, and our failure to protect them…wormed away at us like a larva inside a fruit.

We are very similar in that aspect.

Everything else, though, is different.

But we respect each other, and that is enough.

At least, now, we could at last be on good terms, before he inevitably goes his own way.

I stand up to leave and nod once in thanks, an action he returns, before I go off to do whatever needs doing.

And that is when I am almost instantly met with my Grandpa's smiling face.

He embraces me warmly, the same way he did with Father before Bern came. "Hey now, cub, don't get carried away."

"What do you…?"

He breaks the hug and looks me in the eye. "Come with me, I'll tell you there."

I am unsure, having a guess at what Grandpa wants to say.

But I keep silent and do not complain.

I follow Grandpa to his ger, where family members and high-ranked warriors generally talk with him when it comes to something important.

The sound of Dorgo begging his mother to let him go on the hunt, just once, is gone.

It had been since a General's spear silenced him.

At this point, the surviving women tend to the injuries and illnesses of their husbands and relatives, and the men well enough to move about and work either go out to hunt and forage or take care of the children who had been born since the war ended.

It's hard to look at our clan, now.

Our yurts are barely standing from all the patches that had to be made to the cloth.

Our supplies are low, our people starve and thirst.

Many once-proud fighting men now cannot help but shed tears constantly over their murdered wives and children and parents.

I can barely look them in the eye when I speak to them, knowing I have failed them so, yet I must.

Because these are my people, the people of the clan I was born and raised in, the people I loved and was taught to care for since I could first walk.

For their sake, I must be strong and resolve to never let something like this happen again.

We make it to Grandpa's home, and he gestures me in.

I am surprised, yet part of me is not, when I see Shin in there as well.

He looks at me, that same strange clouded gleam swirls in his eyes in a way where I can never tell how he truly feels.

"My lady."

I say his name and nod at him in response. He certainly isn't the vibrant and ambitious little boy I knew five years ago.

Grandpa gestures me to take a seat. I do as I am told and sit down across my friend.

Grandpa, too, sits down in his usual spot whenever he has visitors. The mildly smug look on his face slightly confuses me.

He turns to me and speaks.

"Sue, you know the state our clan is in right now, do you not?"

I brush some of my hair out of my face. "...Yes, it grieves me and the spirits around us to look at it, but yes."

"And you become of age this year, halfway through the third moon of Spring, do you not?"

"Yes."

He then turns to Shin, his smile slightly growing.

"And you, would you say that you've grown greatly both as a warrior and as a man of our tribe?"

Shin just nods, his expression still blank, eyes still impossible to read.

"May I ask you once more if you think you could handle the responsibilities?"

He hesitates, but still nods.

I begin to worry some with the mention of the word "responsibilities". But I choose to say nothing, lest I let something selfish slip from my lips.

Grandpa turns back to me. It's only with his next question that I understand all too well what his idea is.

"You don't happen to be eyeing any boy in particular, do you? Because if you are, well, it'd be a bit problematic, but I'm not about to split you up with a lover."

I silently swallow and try not to let any reaction show. "…No, Grandpa."

Grandpa crosses his arms and grins broadly. "Well then, everything seems to be in order, then!" he begins, but his expression softens when he examines my face closer.

"I hope you understand why I'm doing this. Shin is a fine warrior; strong, young, clever, resourceful, unwavering. The finest we have left. And he…"

We look each other directly in the eyes.

"He would make a fine chieftain is all."

I feel as if my heart stops. Time slows. The words sink in.

"…So I've been thinking of doing the clan a favor and getting you and Shin engaged, so with that out of the way, I suppose it's time we go through with it."

 _Engaged._

A single word, yet it's enough to make me panic a bit.

I have seen this coming, yet still, I am unprepared.

Because I still feel too young for this.

Because my mind is still foggy from the war and the massacre.

Because Shin's always been my friend, nothing more.

But I keep silent and do not complain.

It is now dusk, and it's nearly time for our clan to keep the routine of gathering around the fire near Grandpa's home to share food and news.

The sound of Aunt Florina fondly saying her farewells to my mother and I before she returns to her home in the snowy northern mountains, after some debate whether she should perhaps stay for supper, is gone.

It had been since a skilled Bern Sniper's arrow pierced her great winged steed's neck, and with his plummet from far up in the sky, he had silenced her.

Everything about the betrothal has been sorted out, but everything is a blur to me.

All three of us exit Grandpa's ger. Shin takes my hand for a few seconds, issues a single "I'll see you soon.", and leaves quietly.

I try to keep a quiet smile on my face…what is there to say?

If it's of benefit to the tribe, if it will help our people, I will keep any protests secret.

I would be lying if I said I was completely in agreement with Grandpa's choice.

In fact, I am actually very sad about it.

Shin is my friend. He has been since he became my father's apprentice when he was eleven.

We talked some in the war, but never once did we seem to be anything more than comrades.

So…how? How are we supposed to do this?

How are we supposed to love each other?

Grandpa, though, misses nothing. He places a hand on my shoulder and snaps me back into reality.

"You're not happy about the engagement, are you?"

I sigh, looking him in the face briefly and then looking at the ground. "I still don't know how you do that."

He chuckles, saying the same thing he always does when he reads past my face. "The others wouldn't know, but I would." He begins, smiling some. "I'm your grandfather. I've known you since you were born."

I laugh a little, a bit of it to my chagrin.

"You feel like it's unfair, I'm guessing." Says he.

I look back at him. "Why would you say that?"

"Because your parents were wed out of love, but you have no such luxury."

I don't say anything for a while, my smile wavering when I finally speak again. "Well, it's hard when you know him, but don't…"

"…I'm sorry."

Neither of us speak for some time. Everything feels so awkward all of the sudden, so neither of us know what to say just yet.

Grandpa sighs, putting on a small smile in an attempt to comfort me, I suppose. "You know, I didn't love your grandmother when we got married." He said. "We knew each other beforehand, but we argued constantly. We were only wed because I had to choose a bride and she was the one my father though was the best match."

I tilted my head slightly, my way of saying that I was listening.

"I was vexed beyond belief, and the first few weeks were very…awkward…but we grew to love each other over time. I hope it's the same for you."

I blink a few times, trying not to let my eyes water, until finally I hug him.

Grandpa returns the gesture as I tell him "Thank you…I hope so, too."

Less than an hour passes, and the nightly gathering begins. Eventually, we all share some news, and then as it gets to Shin, he has difficulty saying what it is that is going to happen, and so do I.

Grandpa tells the tribe for us, that the day his granddaughter comes of age, she and the best warrior will be married. A round of applause is given to the stone-faced groom and the reluctant bride.

But I keep silent and do not complain.

The months, weeks, days until the day I come of age pass by more quickly than I would like them to, and I so desperately wish to love him, but I can't force myself to, no matter how much time I'm given, and before I know it, the day has come.

The sound of Mother's kind yet energetic voice wishing me a happy birthday first thing in the morning, then seeing that something is wrong, proceeds to cheer me up and cheer me on, is gone.

It had been since a foul-mouthed monster of a wyvern rider lunged through her heart with his lance while she was trying to protect me, even in spite of her already severe injuries.

Instead, in the middle of the night, come some girls my age, a few that are a little younger than Mother was, all spared the wrath of Bern because of their ability to fight on the frontlines, and they wake me in the stead of who I wish was there.

The whole process is like a storm, a never-ending strong gale.

One moment with the pretty, blue silk dress that had been tailored over the months, another with the hair, yet another arranging things for the ceremony properly.

Finally, everything is ready, everything is done.

The other women and I attempt to make small talk, celebrating some before the next cue.

It suddenly stings greatly that Mother and Father aren't alive for this event.

But the pain is dulled knowing that their spirits are beside me; quiet, but still there, waiting with me, nevertheless.

I feel them around me, I know it's them, the aura I sense is just like theirs, and I sense their emotion as the night wanes.

Grandpa, too, enters the ger for this event, being my only living relative.

We have a silent conversation, our facial expressions tell all.

All he tells me is to be strong, that it's for the good of our tribe.

To that, I smile, to that, I find some comfort.

Then finally, all noise in the shelter goes as quiet as a day without wind when a tapping sound against the cloth comes from outside, followed by the appropriate word sequence in that familiar, young and soft voice.

 _"The sun grew hot, the moon brought the cold, and as for water, there was none._

 _My body tired, my throat burns, my horse cannot run._

 _But I have found you at last; open thy door, take me in your arms, and my harrowing journey will be done."_

I stand up, hesitant to approach the entrance.

I look to my peers, the women smile warmly and the girls giggle quietly.

As tradition calls, he says his line a second time.

 _"The sun grew hot, the moon brought the cold, and as for water, there was none._

 _My body tired, my throat burns, my horse cannot run._

 _But I have found you at last; open thy door, take me in your arms, and my harrowing journey will be done."_

I take another step forward, and another, almost timidly towards the future.

I almost wish to look back at Grandpa, but once the journey begins, I cannot look back.

For the third and final time, he must repeat what he must say.

 _"The sun grew hot, the moon brought the cold, and as for water, there was none._

 _My body tired, my throat burns, my horse cannot run._

 _But I have found you at last; open thy door, take me in your arms, and my harrowing journey will be done."_

I can distantly feel the ghosts of my loved ones encouraging me, saying it's okay to take another step towards his voice.

I pace forward, open the flap of the ger, and there he is.

He doesn't wear his bandana, such a thing is considered informal and disrespectful on such an occasion.

His garb is newer, better made than normal.

The color the same, the sleeves longer and the sheen much more vibrant.

He wears over his clothes a leather and fur vest, both materials of high quality.

He simply looks at me, his expression vacant, but he extends his hand.

As soon as I take it, we embrace.

It feels so odd, but it is simply something we must get used to in the future.

After we part, the pre-festivites begin.

We get the tea, we speak some, the men and stronger women move my luggage, what little possessions I have left, onto my horse.

After our time is up, I bid a temporary farewell to Grandpa, kissing him on the cheek.

I take a moment to also bid a silent farewell to the spirits of my mother and father, to which I feel them grow emotional but proud.

Then I must leave, Shin goes by foot with the rest of the party, I go by horse, circling him once around my old home before following the company to my destination before the sun rises.

As much as I want to, I am forbidden to look back until the ceremony is over, and I dare not break that law.

I instead look at the skyline between the gers, the stars fading some now that the morn approaches.

But I keep silent and do not complain.

I enter Shin's ger, bustling to the corners with guests.

Grandpa stands next to my fiance himself, the fur sashes draped over his shoulder as he beacons me to take my place.

The others watch on eagerly. The spirits now quiet and observant.

I take the fateful step forward.

The ceremony begins, it proceeds, and finally it ends, the after-festivities begin, and as they do, I sit next to my grandfather, and next to me sits my friend…no…my…my husband.

The sound of Father coming up to me, and after a few moments of warm silence, embracing me fondly and telling me that he and Mother love me so much, that they're so proud of me, that they wonder how I grew up so fast, and they'll miss me, is one I wish I could've heard for this occasion.

I would have heard it, but now, I never would ever since the Bern witch, Brunya, slew him with her wretched magic as she, under the orders of a twisted monarch whom she apparently loved, led the invasion on a people that did her no wrong.

On people who were just like any other, breathed, bled, laughed, cried, loved, yet were apparently deemed by the wyvern country to be slaughtered by the masses, infants and elderly alike.

And only because the king of Bern despised humankind so much that he wished them all dead, all due to just one man.

But I can't look back, not now.

Mother used to say that you can't keep track of every scar you have received, otherwise you would be boggled with useless grudges against yourself and others.

The biggest scars were always the hardest to forget, even she admitted that she had trouble with those.

Father used to say, to help with that, to just count your blessings, and then the pain from harder times will begin to fade unless you pick at it.

So now I should simply focus on what's now good in my life.

I'm alive

Grandpa's alive.

Shin's alive.

I've survived the invasion.

I've survived fighting in a war.

The souls of those murdered in the invasion, both the plainsfolk and the Ilians, as well as Sir Orun and Sir Hector, have been avenged.

Lady Hanon's ancient bow chose me as it's wielder.

I'm married to a strong warrior.

I have done a great service to my clan, to my people, in marrying him.

The world is at peace.

Everything will be alright.

...Right?

They pass the milk-wine, to which I chuckle at some memories.

A former bandit with a peculiar way of speaking once guzzled down a whole pouchful of it when Grandpa offered some to him.

He...well...it knocked him right out. It's very, very strong, apparently.

I wonder what became of that man?

We never talked but once when partnered up for sentry duty, but such things still keep the mind wondering.

Is he alright? For one so strange, he felt like he had a good heart.

It eventually gets to us. Shin pours himself a small cup and takes a healthy sip, coughing slightly, afterwards.

I consider it, but I pass. Just becoming of age, I have never drank before, and this doesn't seem like the right thing to introduce me to beverages in general.

We are congratulated by passing guests as they move from here to there, some give us gifts, like various bows and swords and pendants and bracelets, sometimes a blanket or scarf or fancier tea leaves.

Everyone is loud and jovial except the newlywed couple, exchanging a shy glance and smile and some words in an attempt to make small talk every now and again, the latter failing either because we were interrupted or just couldn't think of anything to say.

But I keep silent and do not complain.

Everyone grows tired, the night grows late, and everyone decides to get some sleep, Shin and I included.

The sound of the voices of so many people I knew…loved…tried to protect are all…all gone…

It's hard to forgive myself for letting them be silenced, but if I don't, I won't be able to help those whose voices still ring survive.

I keep telling myself that I can't look back ever again, to not count every scar and to count my blessings instead.

It's harder than it sounds, but I know I will learn.

Just like I'll learn to...love my friend.

Some of the bridesmaids tuck us in for the night.

After they leave, we both just look at each other with blank expressions before turning around, facing away from each other.

Everything is still so bizarre, so hard to comprehend.

The world just suddenly goes quiet as everyone goes home, the only sound being Shin's breathing.

I want to love him, I wish I could love him, but I cannot.

I am happy enough to please my people, to do them a service, to have a good future leader be officially part of the chieftain's family, but it does not change the fact that I want to just break down and cry.

Cry for every opportunity lost, every dream vanished, every life that had been crushed, be it an ally or friend by Bern's hand, or a Bern soldier's by mine.

Cry for our once great country now being nothing more than a valley of lost hope and a slowly dying race.

So badly do I wish that, perchance I could go back, change things so they could forever be like they used to.

That the countries would never be at war, that the king of Bern would not lose his faith, that the plains could continue to live in peace and prosperity, that the tribes would not feud and be destroyed, that Mother and Father and the rest of the clan and Aunt Florina and the others would still be alive and we could all be happy and free from strife and bloodshed, that Shin and I would not be forced into a union that neither of us seemed to truly want and continue to be close friends, and Grandpa wouldn't have to worry about who would succeed him and Father could lead in his place after he retired like he wanted to do so badly, that the worst thing we could worry about was getting back to our ger before it rained or if the rock we picked up by the stream was actually a biter turtle.

Alas…none of this is the case…countless battles have marred the plains until sorrow over the departed and broken pride is all that is left.

And now the fate of our clan rests upon the shoulders of a couple wed against their will.

In time, I will learn to ignore the pain, the frustration, the scars, whatever else comes my way and darkens the mind.

The war is over, but the woe is still here.

But I keep silent and do not complain.

* * *

 _A/N: Hey guys! Very sorry for the absence! Writing is a lot more time consuming than I think it is most of the time, but hey, at the end of the day, it's still quite fun!_

 _So something you guys might not know (unless you've talked to me either here or on DA) is that Sue is actually my favorite character in the FE series. I could go on for a long rant as to why, but essentially, she acts extremely similar to my favorite character from my favorite movie (that would be Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, amazing movie, by the way, a definite must-watch if you like Studio Ghibli), plus she's very psychologically interesting and well-written, most of her supports will tell you that (and she is so criminally underrated! I mean, I like characters like Lilina and Miledy and Wolt and the other fan-favorites and all, but why doesn't this character get more attention? She's really an impressive character with a lot of care and detail put into her story!). But one thing I noticed is that she doesn't exactly get the best ending. She just kind of gets ignored by history and is believed by some to be a reincarnation of Sacae's founder, I guess. But another thing I noticed is that Shin...despite not being related to Dayan...becomes the next tribe leader when the esteemed Silver Wolf retires. So, how does that work? My only guess is that either A. Sue got ignored COMPLETELY, which would just be terrible, or B. She and Shin got hitched. There were two circumstances the latter would happen, if you supported them all the way (even though they don't get an ending together, their A support is kind of shippy), or if things were arranged, and that's the direction this fic went in. What inspired this was a line of dialogue in Shin and Dayan's A support where the latter says he wants the former to lead in his stead after he steps down, so assuming they keep that A support (even though there is a reference to another one of Dayan's A supports in there), that means Sue and Shin didn't get the A support (assuming they supported at all), meaning that there isn't really any romance between them in this fic...gee, even when fans of hers write about her, Sue still doesn't get a break. I'm so sorry. :(_

 _Another thing I'd like to mention is that some of the research I did on Mongolian wedding traditions for the last Elibe fanfiction I wrote carried on, here, except I used a lot more of it. I'll admit, it's still confusing, but after reading through it for the 30th time, I think I've got the gist of it. XP_

 _I really hope I wrote Sue in character, here. I've written in first person from her POV before, but that's for a fic I've revised to be in third person and revolve around characters other than her. I do know that she's kind, but melancholy, and I may have overdone it on the angst a tad, but I guess we'd be angsty, too, if our families and neighbors and a whole bunch of other people were killed in an unforeseen tragedy and we failed to protect them. I also tried to include the more spiritual side of her that's mentioned in a few of her supports, that she's very connected to nature and the spirits around her. It feels odd to write about, but as I stated in the actual fic, I like to think it's the spirits of her departed loved ones. Other than that, I hope everyone was written in character and everything was written well._

 _Have a great day, and may God bless you! :D_


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